Secret Signs Read Online Free PDF Page B

guard dog to get away.”
    Clickety Clack stared at him. “You gave
all
your food to that hairy beast? Why didn’t you throw part of it and keep some for yourself? Kind of shortsighted, wouldn’t you say, boy?”
    Henry’s temper flared. “I didn’t know I was going to have to run for my life or I might have been more prepared. No onetold me about the railway bulls and their boy-eating dog.”
    â€œAnd if you’d done what I said in the first place and climbed into that water tower, you could have kept all your food and still escaped.” Clickety Clack tapped the shell of his hard-boiled egg with a jackknife that had magically appeared; he then pulled a tiny tin of salt out of yet another pocket. “Too bad, but I don’t have enough to feed you and me both. I guess you’ll have to wait till tonight.” He peeled the egg and sprinkled it liberally with salt before greedily chomping into it.
    â€œFine with me! I’m not hungry anyway.” Henry’s stomach was gnawing on his backbone, but he wasn’t going to beg for food. Not him! He went back to reading his book.
    The elderly traveler continued to enjoy his meal. Henry swallowed; his mouth wouldn’t stop watering. He knew he shouldn’t look, but his eyes were drawn to the food.
    Clickety Clack glanced at him fromunder bushy gray eyebrows. “Oh, stop looking like the pigs ate your granny, boy. I reckon there’s enough here for two.” He tossed Henry an egg, followed by a bun and a sizable chunk of the jerky.
    Henry tried to look as though he didn’t care one way or the other. “I guess I could force it down.”
    They ate in silence while the miles slipped by in the lazy summer sunshine. A smudge on the horizon caught Henry’s eye, and he wondered what kind of dust storm it was. “There’s a strange…” he began.
    â€œBe quiet!” Clickety Clack looked up, listening intently.
    Then Henry heard it. A strange whirring sound filled the air.
    â€œWe’re in for it now!” Scrambling to his feet, Clickety Clack hurried to the open door and tugged at it.
    At that moment, Henry saw them.
    Millions and millions of grasshoppers!
    With a hailstone rattle, the flying bugs hit the sides of the boxcar, plastering itwith their slimy green bodies. The noise was deafening. Henry ran to help close the door. The grasshoppers smashed into his hair and face. He opened his mouth to yell, but his voice was drowned as insects filled his nose and throat. He couldn’t breathe, and panic gripped him as his mind flashed back to that terrifying day at the creek when he had almost died.
    He spat out the loathsome bugs and pulled on the door. It was jammed.
    Henry could see that the bottom track was plugged with dead grasshoppers. He dropped to his knees and frantically dug the gooey green mush out of the track.
    Clickety Clack heaved on the door, slamming it shut against the terrible storm. “This is not good. These little critters can strip a crop to the ground in minutes and drive cattle so wild that they stampede into fences.”
    Henry’s head came up. “Feel that? The train’s slowing down!” The car began to shudder. Then a horrible stench made his lunch rise in his throat. He clamped his hand over his nose. “What’s that awful stink?”

    Clickety Clack shook off several grass-hoppers that clung to his coat. “The wheels have squashed so many hoppers, we can smell the hot, oozing bug juice, and the reason we’re slowing down is because as the critters get ground up, the steel wheels lose traction on the slimy rails. They act like grasshopper grease.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    As they waited, the sound of the laboring engine could be heard clearly above the drumming of the insects. Finally the train came to a complete stop, and the noise of bug bodies pounding into the boxcar